


Finding Out

by SnowWhiteKnight



Series: Found [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 16 years later, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Discovering You Are Adopted, Fluff, Gen, Sandor is not taking any shit, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Beny finds out.





	

Benjen brought his practice sword down on the wooden practice dummy with enough force to break it in half. His rage was not satiated in the least and he moved on to the next one. He raised his sword again, but it was caught above his head. Eighteen years old and he still couldn't sense the presence of Sandor Clegane when he went into fight mode.

“You have some explaining to do, pup,” his father growled. Benjen jerked the sword out of his father’s...out of Clegane's hands.

“About?” he snarled back.

“Your mother is crying. You’re the cause. What the fuck did you say to her?” Benjen grit his teeth and stayed silent. Sandor cuffed him on the ear. “It’s one thing to disrespect me, I can knock your arse into next month. Disrespect your mother, and I get to knock it into next _year._ So I will ask again. What. The fuck. Did you say to your mother.” Benjen noticed the few other people in the yard were quickly leaving it. His practice sessions with the lord of the castle were well known to get aggressively violent and travel even out of the yard. This was not one of those times, but the anger rolling off the large man in front of him could easily turn it into one. Benjen sighed, still full of tension.

“I told her she had no authority over me since she’s not really my mother.”

His breath was knocked out of him as he went flying backward. Sandor Clegane still packed a wallop of a punch. Benjen gasped for air as a shadow fell over him and he was lifted up by the front of his tunic, his feet dangling a foot above the ground. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do," he spat at the man. "Maester Yenn kept meticulous notes, and he _noted_ that Sansa of House Stark, married to Sandor of House Clegane, had a somewhat difficult _first_ birth of her son _Sibb Clegane Stark._ ” He had discovered the notes during his lessons with Maester Yenn in the wee hours of the morning and had confronted the man about it. He had told him everything he knew, which was enough for Benjen to know he was not the trueborn son of Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane.

“Is that so?” Benjen shrank a little from the glare he was receiving. “Come with me.” Not that he was given much of a choice. He was dragged to the stables and practically thrown at his horse, a dapple grey courser, Wolven. Not wanting to disobey and suffer the wrath of the Hound, Benjen saddled his horse and followed the man. They rode towards the hills of The Reach, down a small but well travelled path. Nothing was said between the two men during the few hours it took to reach their destination. It turned out to be a small cabin made of stone, well kept and with a lived in feel to it.

“What is this place?” Benjen asked as they walked inside after tying the horses to a post outside. He didn’t remember ever hearing about it before.

“I built it. I come here when I need to think, or be alone, to calm down. Brought a lot of demons back with me when we returned to this area. Sansa...she tried to help, but there was only so much she could do. The septon that married us, he had a friend that paid us a visit one day, asking for aid. He was from the Quiet Isle and Septon Meribald told him of us, that we might be willing to help. He was right of course, at least about Sansa wanting to help. He ended up helping me during his visit here. Elder Brother. You might remember him, though it's been a few years since his last visit. He’s a good man. Didn’t always follow the Faith of the Seven. Used to be like me, with demons to spare. We talked a lot. He suggested something constructive, literally. So I started with walls, then a roof. It collapsed.” He shrugged. “I was a shit builder. Talked to Elder Brother again, who got me to talk to one of the master masons in Wintersong Keep. We were still rebuilding the Keep at the time, so we had plenty of mason’s around. Sansa found out, encouraged me to do it. Took a few years, but I did it. It's my personal space, where I go when I need to be alone. Sometimes I bring your mother.”

Benjen growled. “She's not--”

He took a punch to the gut again, falling to his knees and coughing, trying to regain his breath. It wasn't even a tenth of the Hound's strength.

“Listen up, pup, and listen well. I'm only going to tell you this once. Never bring this up again after today. You are the first son of Sansa Stark and myself, though you were not born of us. You were a foundling.”

“And my real parents? Do you know of them?”

Sandor sighed. “Your birth mother was raped, beaten and murdered by some men on the road. Sansa and I were on our way to Winterfell, having escaped from the mad King Joffrey. I killed the leader, the other two ran off. Sansa saw to her, was with her in her final moments.”

“So, what, you took me from there?” He knew his parents, no, who he _thought_ were his parents he corrected himself, had escaped from the mad King during a riot. They had married in secret, and she had borne him a son, Benjen Clegane Stark. His “father” had so loved his “mother”, he stole her away in the chaos, along with Beny. That was the story he had been told nearly all his life.

Sandor shook his head. “Your birth mother protected your life by not allowing those men to find you. Her silence bought you a day or two at the most. She left you at the river, probably where those men found her. She tried to tell Sansa, but she was too far gone. All the little bird could understand was something about the river.” He was staring off into the distance and Benjen imagined that he was reliving the time by talking about it, even going so far as to use his pet name for his wife. “She knew it had to be important, for your birth mother to use her dying breath to tell her about the river. She dragged me over there, following the path those men had made. She was the one that found you. Not me. I…” Sandor rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I didn't want to take you with us. I told her it would be a mercy...that I could make it quick and painless for you.”

Benjen’s eyes widened. “You wanted to kill me.”

Sandor growled. “Obviously, I _did_ change my mind. Though I can just as easily change it back. Yes, I thought it would be better for all of us. Your mother didn't agree.” He saw Sandor's jaw clench. “She left me over it. Let me believe she would allow it, then when I turned my back, she flew off with you.”

“But she was your wife…”

Sandor barked a laugh. “Not at that time. I was in love with her, but I knew she couldn't, that she _wouldn't_ ever feel like that for me. All I could do was deliver her to her family, and hope that I could be allowed to serve her, protect her. I was a killer, and I would kill for her. Still am and still do. When she left… I was frantic. I knew she wouldn't survive long without help. She didn't even know how to build a fire, which I purposely didn’t teach her, and she would die without warmth at night. I got on Stranger and I took off after her, but I went in the wrong direction. I wasn't thinking clearly, nearly got to Lannisport on the Goldroad, was asking everyone I met if they had seen her. Surprised no one put two and two together. I did have to fight more reavers than I’d preferred, but I finally realized she hadn't gone west. Stranger guided me back to that spot in the river, then along the river itself. No matter what I did, he refused to listen to me. It wasn't until I was flagged down by a woman named Berra.”

“Berra, Moth-- I mean, Lady Sansa's friend that lives outside the walls of Wintersong?”

Sandor raised an eyebrow at Benjen, but nodded. “She and her husband moved here a few years after the war for the North ended. Anyway, turns out she found Sansa wandering on that very first day she left me, was able to identify you as her neighbor’s son and tell Sansa more about you in general. Your birth father, Malcolm, died before you were born. Your birth mother, Jenna, had moved there a month or so after she gave birth. She was staying in Jenna's home with you, caring for you, training her body to nurse you. I thought she was crazy. She couldn't keep you. She was a princess. Her family would rejoice at her return but she would be sold to the lord that could offer her family the best resources. This was still during the War of the Five Kings. You remember your history lessons?”

Benjen nodded. “Uncle Robb was named King in the North. He led the Northmen and the Rivermen to many victories, but ultimately gave up his crown to Queen Daenarys after the War for the North ended. The War of the Five Kings mostly fizzled out when King Stannis and Uncle Robb went to the Wall. King Renly died, King Joffrey died, King Balon died. King Tommen was a child that was little more than a puppet king for his mother, the Whore Queen.”

“Correct. Sansa would have been a key factor to gaining more allies, as long as she was untouched, childless, and available to marry. Well, I suppose many would still marry her still, but her value to them would have been diminished. I told her as much, and just so you know, I had given up on killing you. If she wanted to keep you, I'd make sure you'd both stay alive, but I needed her to be absolutely sure. She surprised me. She is strong, stronger than I could ever imagine at the time.”

“How did she surprise you?”

“It was the conviction she held when she said you were hers. I was... I was stunned. Impressed. And then I realized she really didn't need me to make things better for her. She was perfectly capable of going on alone without me. Berra would make sure she got to where she was going, even if she had to take her herself. I could have left then. She released me from my self-imposed duty. I wanted to, was about to, then she said she had missed me.” Sandor sighed heavily. “That was when I realized I would follow her to the ends of the earth and leap off the edge if she ordered it. I was fucked, pure and simple. The only thing to do was make sure she was safe and that I become indispensable to her. It was easier than I thought, since it turned out she loved me, too, though I didn't know it at that moment.”

“How did that happen?” Benjen was curious, despite himself. “How did you come together and marry if it wasn’t in King’s Landing?”

Sandor scratched at the back of his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “She pointed out that I had closed myself off to her. So, as part of my plan to become indispensable, I started talking more, hoping she would see me more as a person and less of a thug with a sword.”

“She did already though. She told me once that she loved you long before she realized it, that you had been her friend and ally, and it was when she stopped being scared of you that she started to care for you, that that took place before Grandfather Ned died.” Benjen had been nine years old, sick with a cold, unable to play with his brothers, and had demanded stories of his parents to make him feel better. His parents were his idols, madly in love and just perfect for each other. With outsiders, they were quite reserved around each other, but among the family, it was normal to see his father kiss his mother for no reason, or for his mother to drag his father to the bedchamber in the middle of the day. Even though they had been married for so long, it was like they were still newlyweds. He wanted that sort of relationship, though he had long given up on his first love, Brienne of Tarth. He did still have a penchant for older women of strong wills though. Lyanna Mormont in particular, if he could just convince her to visit the South. His last letter to her was still unanswered. He had hope.

“Sounds about right. Again, I didn't know this until much later. But by opening myself up to her, and taking care of you, we formed a bond that was unlike any other relationship either of us had had or seen before. If we hadn't found you, or if she had let me kill you when I first suggested it, we might never have gotten married at all.”

“So...I'm the reason you and Mother…”

“Yes. We would probably not have ever spoken of our feelings for each other, or if we did, it would have been too late. She would have been given to some lord, or imprisoned at the Red Wedding. Depends on if your uncle had allowed me to be her shield or join his army. He was ready to make a widow of your mother at first, so he might have just killed me outright.”

“But you and Uncle Robb are such good friends!”

He snorted. _“Now_ we are. Going through war together like we did tends to form bonds of trust, but when we first got to Riverrun, he hated me. Your grandmother hated me, too.”

“But I'm still not your blood, you or Mother…”

His father scoffed at him. “Blood don’t make a damn difference, pup. Family is family. Your mother _chose_ you. She chose to save you, to keep you, when it would have been so much easier to get rid of you or hand you off to someone else.”

“But…”

His father shook his head. “I'm going to tell you one more thing, something I've only ever told one other person." He took a deep breath. He looked troubled and for a moment, Benjen thought he was going to change his mind. "These scars I have, the burn ones, they're not from a battle.”

Benjen stared at the scars. He was so used to seeing them, he usually forgot about them. “They're not?”

“No. Before your mother, before I was a Lannister dog, I lived here, when it was still Clegane's Keep, with my elder brother, Gregor, my younger sister, Alys, who your sister is named for, and our parents. My brother gave them to me, when I was about six or seven. Don't rightly remember nowadays. I was playing with one of his toys, one he didn't even like. When he found me, he didn't say a word, just picked me up and shoved my face into the burning embers. My father covered it up, as he had of so many of Gregor's atrocities, told people my bedding had caught fire. They were my blood, pup. But they were not my family. My family died the day my sister Alys was murdered at my brother’s hands. Mother too, but that was before Alys.”

“By the gods…”

He gave Benjen a sad smile. “It was a long time ago. I was angry about it for nearly all my life, until Elder Brother helped me manage _all_ my demons. Your mother helped, opened me up to the healing process, but she could only do so much.”

“Your family…your brother...”

“No. He was just someone I happened to be related to. Didn't find family again until King Robert dragged us all up north to recruit his old friend to be Hand. Well, still took a while, but I was entranced as soon as I saw your mother. Tender age of sixteen and terrified of an angry, old Hound. She was a vision. Still is.”

“Not scared of you anymore.”

“No, not since I told her about Gregor. Anyway, my point in all this is that even if you're not our first _born,_ you are still our _first son._ Nothing can change that. If it weren't for you, so much would be different. Your siblings might not be here, and what would this world be without little Alys?”

Benjen watched his father and laughed. “It would be a lot duller, that's for sure.”

“You want to step down and let Sibb inherit Wintersong, that's fine. But you're our son, through and through. We raised you, loved you, taught you right from wrong. Your mother would die for you, almost did a few times, so don't ever let me hear you say that we're not your real parents. She was crying so hard, I could barely even make out your name. Broke her heart with that.”

Beny gulped. _Shit..._ he thought. “I'm sorry--”

“Not me you need to apologize to, pup,” his father said. “Now go on, let’s get back home. If I find out you haven't apologized to your mother, I'll let your Aunt Arya know you made her sister cry. You know how she'll react.”

Benjen shuddered and nodded. “Yes, Father.”

**********

He found his mother in bed, the curtains drawn tightly, and the room cast in darkness. Sibb, Aryn, and Alys had tried to talk to her, but hadn't had any luck. His brothers and little sister swarmed him as he was about to enter the bedchamber.

“She's going to be alright, isn't she?” Alys asked, her big grey eyes looking up at Benjen with all the trust in the world that her big brother would fix it. She idolized Benjen the way he had idolized Uncle Jaime.

“Yes, she'll be fine, pup. I just need to apologize for something I said. I hurt her feelings and it was wrong.”

“What did you say? Why did you say it?” Aryn asked, slightly horrified.

“Something I regret and never wish to repeat again.”

“Oh, well, remember our house words and you'll be fine,” Sibb told him. _Honesty, Loyalty, Bravery, Family._

Alys pulled on his tunic until he bent down and let her kiss his cheek. “Be nice to her, she’s our only mother, you know.” He smiled at her and nodded. The three younger Cleganes ran off, leaving their brother to make his amends.

Benjen opened the door to his parents' bedchamber, knocking on the door so she wasn't surprised. “Mother?”

“Beny?” he heard her say, sniffling softly. He approached the bed quickly and sat on the edge.

“Mother… I--”

She flung her arms around him. “Beny, my sweet little boy, please forgive me,” she sobbed quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you by not telling you.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Mother, you don’t owe me an apology, but I owe you one. I was too harsh, I didn’t know enough and I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry, Mother, and I love you. You are my mother, the one who raised me, and I can not argue that you have been just about the best mother a foundling can have.”

“Beny…”

“You’re my mother, my real mother. I was just too stupid to realize it.”

She hugged him tightly. “Your father can be like that, too. Quick to be harsh, but upfront when he must apologize. I’m assuming he spoke with you.”

“Yes, told me about his...about Gregor and Lord Clegane, about his mother and sister. I had no idea…”

She shushed him. “I only knew Gregor, but he is not of our family, and never will be.” She brushed his long, black hair back from his face. “You do look like us, you know. Your father’s hair and eyes, my brow and chin. No one ever guessed, except your Aunt Arya, but she did the math. She always was better at sums than me. We got better about hiding the truth over the years.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Once I was old enough to understand?”

“Oh, sweet one, because I didn’t want you to ever think that just because you weren’t our blood, that you weren’t our son. I didn’t want you to feel like an outsider, the way your Uncle Jon did growing up in Winterfell. He's doing well now, but those years made him grow up so much faster than the rest of us. Most of all, I didn’t want my mother to tear apart our little family. She would have, had she known, but she soon grew to love you and your father...well, she tolerates your father, for the most part.”

Benjen scooted away from his mother and then lay down, his head in her lap, like he used to do when he was a child. “What was my...my mother like?”

“Berra would be happy to talk to you about her. Her name was Jenna, and I only knew her for a few short moments. She was strong, to take on the burden that she did, to keep you from harm. She cared about you, enough to entrust your safety to someone she just met, though I suppose she didn’t really have an option there. You get your eyes from her, and your hair from your father, since Jenna had light yellow hair, much like Brienne’s.” She stroked his hair. “When you were only a few months old, I asked you if you would grow your hair long like your father...like Sandor, I mean. Your father, Malcolm, I never met him, neither did Berra, so we can’t tell you anything about him. I wish we could.”

“It’s alright, Mother. It can’t be helped.” He closed his eyes as she hummed and continued to play with his hair. “Mother?”

“Yes?”

“Will you sing for me? Please?”

“Of course, Beny. Anything for you.” She started to sing his favorite song, Florian and Jonquil. He had always loved that song. It reminded him of his parents, though he had learned quickly that his father did not appreciate the comparison.

How could he ever question whether he was her son or not? It seemed so silly now. If he hadn’t read that one little line in the maester’s notes, he would never have guessed. He would have lead his life believing, _knowing,_ she was his mother, that Sandor Clegane was his father, and if reading one little line was what could break it, it wasn’t a very strong bond to begin with. But it _was_ a strong bond, though he had needed help to remember.

He heard a chuckle from the doorway. Opening one of his eyes, he saw his father. “Such a mama’s boy,” Sandor said.

Benjen snorted. “Like you never sang that song to me.”

His father growled, but Benjen ignored him. His mother just giggled. “Well, someday, your father and I will sing it together.” Another growl. “For your children.”

“Do you think I can have a marriage like yours? One built on love and trust?” He looked up at his mother.

“I think you can, if you’re willing to open your heart. Oh, by the way, I received a raven today. We’ll be having some guests from the North visit soon. They’ll be here within the sennight.”

“Uncle Robb? Uncle Bran? Uncle Rickon? Uncle Jon? I’m out of uncles in the North…Everyone else is either in the Reach or the Neck. And Grandmother Cat and Grandfather Jon just left last month, so it can’t be them.”

“I could just tell you, you know,” his mother teased. “I think you will be most happy about it.” Benjen sighed and closed his eyes. His mother continued to stroke his hair. “The Mormonts are visiting.”

Benjen found himself on the floor, looking up at his mother in surprise. “Th-the Mormonts?!”

Sandor helped him up from the floor. “That a problem, pup? Thought you fancied that youngest Mormont girl. The one named after your great aunt.”

Benjen’s mouth was flapping like a fish.

“You...you _do_ favor her, do you not, Beny? I would not have invited them otherwise.” His mother was looking at him in concern.

“I do! She’s...she’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. And intelligent and loyal and fierce. And so beautiful. Did I mention wonderful…” He was rambling, his voice a few pitches higher than normal and much more rapid.

“We get it, pup. She’s great. Just...try to stay calm when you’re around her. Otherwise, she’ll think you’re madder than a hen in a wolf den.”

“Yes, Father…” Benjen said meekly.

“Now, go on, get back to the training yard and do your exercises properly. Never going to impress her if you can’t even defend yourself.”

“Yes...Father…” Benjen said, scurrying out of the room, his steps lightened considerably from this morning. He really did have the best parents in the world.


End file.
